Chapter 6 - The Narrow Escape
Mark began slamming his heavy shoulder against the hotel room door with terrifying force.
The wooden frame splintered slightly with every brutal impact, threatening to give way at any second.
I grabbed the external flash drive containing my brother's manifesto and shoved it deeply into my pocket.
I sprinted toward the large glass window facing the busy downtown street below.
I was on the third floor, which meant a direct jump would easily shatter my legs.
I threw open the window and climbed out onto the narrow metal fire escape just as my hotel door violently burst open.
Mark stumbled into the room holding a suppressed tactical pistol in his right hand.
He spotted me on the fire escape and raised his weapon without a single moment of hesitation.
I dove down the rusted metal stairs as a bullet ricocheted off the iron railing right next to my head.
The loud ping of the bullet echoed in the cold night air, fueling my desperate adrenaline.
I scrambled down to the second-floor landing and leaped over the railing onto the roof of a parked delivery truck.
I rolled safely onto the cold aluminum roof, bruising my shoulder but completely avoiding any broken bones.
I slid off the truck and landed on the dark pavement of the alleyway behind the hotel.
I sprinted toward the main street, blending into the crowded sidewalks filled with oblivious late-night pedestrians.
I needed to reach Marcus before Mark and my siblings could corner me in the open city.
I used the burner phone to call Marcus, demanding to know where his promised security team was.
Marcus answered with a strained, agonizing groan that made my stomach completely drop.
He told me that my brother had tracked his vehicle and intentionally caused a massive car crash.
Marcus was currently trapped in his overturned car, waiting for the paramedics to arrive.
He told me that I was completely on my own for the rest of the night.
He urged me to take the digital manifesto directly to the FBI field office downtown before my siblings found me.
I hung up the phone and pulled my dark hood over my head to avoid the street cameras.
I walked briskly toward the federal building, constantly checking over my shoulder for any signs of pursuit.
I finally saw the towering glass structure of the FBI headquarters glowing in the distance.
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Just as I stepped off the curb to cross the street, a black unmarked van aggressively cut me off.
The side door slid open, and two men wearing dark ski masks grabbed my arms and pulled me inside.
